Forest Vs Trees
by angellwings
Summary: For a prompt challenge from tumblr: Lucy, Wyatt and Rufus are supposed to go to a bar after a mission but Rufus cancels (reason to be chosen by the writer) and Lucy and Wyatt go alone.


After Lincoln, they decided they needed a drink. By the time, Lucy and Rufus had finished their mission debrief Wyatt had been tended to and stitched up. They'd met on the way out and Rufus had suggested the drink. There was a bar not far from Mason Industries that Rufus said employees frequented but on the way there Rufus got a call from his mother asking him to come home. His brother needed help with a project for school so Rufus begged off and went home. Leaving Wyatt and Lucy alone.

Silence engulfed them. They'd butted heads on this mission and Lucy knew she'd said some inconsiderate things. For his part, Wyatt felt ashamed of himself. In his hurt and his grief he'd returned fire. He knew she hadn't meant it the way it sounded but Jessica was constantly on his mind lately. She would always be a sore spot for him. But Jessica would not have approved of the way he'd reacted to Lucy. He was a hothead but he had the capacity for restraint and every time he didn't use that restraint she'd called him on it. Now, she was the voice in the back of his head forcing him to keep his cool.

Lucy nursed a rum and coke and took slow deep breaths. Where Wyatt and Rufus had saved men tonight, Lucy had lost one. She'd watched a hero die. She'd been visibly shaken in the lifeboat and it seemed she still was. Wyatt reached over and placed his hand on hers. He gave her hand a comforting squeeze just has he had earlier that night. The action drew her eyes to his.

"I'm sorry," Wyatt said as he nervously cleared his throat and removed his hand. "About what I said earlier on the mission. I understand that you have a job to do just like me. Sometimes, I just can't see the forest for the trees. Not only that, but with your sister being the result of a change in the timeline…if I were you I'd be hesitant to make any waves too. I was extremely unfair to you, and I'm sorry."

"No, I'm sorry," Lucy said softly. "I was insensitive. I was so wrapped up in the big picture and my own pain that I wasn't thinking about what I was saying. I do believe that some things happen for a reason but not all things and your wife, you, you deserve to have each other. What happened to you and her was a tragedy, not a fixed point in time. I just…I want to make that clear."

He gave her a small sad smile and nodded. "Thank you. For what it's worth, I hate that you had to witness what happened to Lincoln. I know he meant a lot to you."

She closed her eyes and took a large sip of her drink. "I can't unsee it. It just keeps replaying in my head, and then…Robert. God, poor Robert. I used to write and talk about Lincoln so easily and now…" her sentence trailed off and she slid the glass she was holding from one hand to the other.

"You're not going to forget it," Wyatt said with an emotional gulp. He sometimes relived some of his own bad memories, they would always be there. "But it will get easier. It'll slip to the back of your mind."

She scoffed and he ducked his head to deliberately catch her eye

"No, really, it will," he assured her.

"Thank you," Lucy said with a slow nod. "I'll trust you're right."

He gave her a small smirk at that and chuckled. "Look at that. Progress."

"What?" she asked as she looked up urgently.

"You putting trust in me," he told her with a grin. "I call that progress, ma'am."

She chuckled and rolled her eyes playfully. "Just because I don't say it, doesn't mean it isn't there, Master Sargent."

"Whatever you say, Professor," Wyatt said as she tipped his beer bottle toward her.

Lucy shook her head in amusement while she pulled her phone out of her pocket to look at the time. She groaned and sighed. "I have to go."

"Oh, okay," Wyatt said with a nod. "Short drink."

She shook her head. "No, it's not—I don't _want_ to leave but my mother has been calling me all night. I forgot I had my phone on silent. I should go see what she needs. See you next mission since the appears to be my life now," she said dryly as she threw cash down on the bar.

"See you next mission," Wyatt agreed with a nod as she turned and left.

He turned and casually watched her walk away. This team was unlike any he'd worked with before. There was no hierarchy when they were actually in the field. No one who primarily made the decisions. There was more at stake than a failed op and local civilians. He was going to have to learn to think bigger and she was going to have learn to think smaller. Maybe together they could find a workable middle ground. He took the last swig of his beer and dropped his cash next to the empty bottle. For now, he needed to lay down in his own modern day bed. He'd been shot and sewn up twice now. He was exhausted.


End file.
